


Savior [unedited]

by Jammy



Category: Neopets
Genre: Comfort, Friendship, Other, Vent Work, Vent Writing, apparently, death mentioned, i have problems, random shit I dont even know this just fucking happened when I went to write a thing dude, suicide mentioned, vent art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammy/pseuds/Jammy
Summary: He was sure that death would consume him when he fell into the icy waters below. He was welcoming it, you know.And then he woke up, someone had come to save his life, but why? There was no reason for an estranged killer like himself to live on, not after what he did, or lost. Who was it that saved him? Who was his savior?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [werelupewoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/werelupewoods/gifts).



> I am so sorry, this was just---I dont know, I wanted to just type and I couldn't stop. 
> 
> Em had wrote a story a long time ago about Simeon [the gelert assassin] trying to take his life by jumping into the ocean and after reading it back then I just had this thought, and well, I guess tonight it was a night to let it all lose. Apparently. ///shrugs. 
> 
> Enjoy, and sorry it ends kinda weird.

Warmth.

 

There was warmth.

 

 

He had to take in a gasp of air just to make sure that yes, he was breathing. Why though? He had jumped, there was no way he was to live after his descent. His eyelids felt heavy when he forced them open and he was greeted with the view of the window, outside of it was fog and the treetops, the cold breeze that came in carried a familiar smell with it. Sea salt. That meant that he was still near the shores at least.

 

Without moving his head he turned his eyes to look upon the foreign room he was now laying in, bundled firmly in between the folds of some rather large quilts the room itself felt cold, though there was a soft light coming from some candles just on the other side of the room. The furniture was beautifully carved out of old oak and possibly stained to give it it’s darker colors that he sees, and there were books in adoring white shelves just besides him. There was a fireplace but it’s flames died down to nothing but dim embers, that could explain why his face felt cold. Taking another larger breath of air and he could finally smell lavender, and some other stronger herbs coming from nearby. Wiggling out of the quilts were move difficult than he anticipated but when he got his arm out his hunch was correct, his arms were bandaged up and the ointment—whoever had brought him here used—had that sweet smell to it.

 

“Oh, you’re awake.” the voice almost made him jump, there at the door walking in was a rather tall blonde gelert wearing a pale green shirt and brown trousers. The closer the gelert got the more he realized the band the other pet was wearing around his neck, he was a man of the Cathedral. Figures. The other gelert had put a tray down next to the bed before turning around and throwing a log into the fireplace, using the pick leaning against it to make the flames come alive. “Damn, I could’ve sworn this fire was going to last longer than it did.” he mutters to no one in particular...he doesn’t think, before coming back again to bring a chair next to the bed and gently grab the arm he had freed to tuck it back into the quilts. “You shouldn’t move your arms around so much, they might open up again.”

 

‘Let them’ is what he would’ve said but he was just too exhausted to talk, to retaliate, to ask. All that he had the strength to do was breathe, and watch, which was a hard task in itself. The young man reaches over to the tray he had brought in and grabs a small bowl smelling strong of broth, soup, at a time like this? He felt disgusted, not because of the soup—which smelled absolutely divine—but because he was here, still, after what he’s tried…and failed.

 

“Here.” the blonde brings a spoonful of brown broth close to his face and for the moment he just stares at it, refusing to eat, he doesn’t need any of this. He shouldn’t even be here this exact moment, he had a plan that was sure to make it end for him and he needed to fulfill it, he won’t eat. No matter how enticing this soup looked to him…. “Ah! Good, good.” the young gelert is all smiles as his body works against his mind and takes the spoon into his mouth, scooping another serving for his guest the clergyman can finally breathe a sigh of relief. “I was worried that your jaw might’ve been broken, that—wouldn’t be a good thing you know, because we’d have to wait for my friend to get here. He’s more knowledgeable about repairing bones than I am at the moment.” The warm broth that runs down his throat almost feels euphoric, soothing and comforting compared to the cold sharp knives of the ocean that he felt nearly—well to him it felt like it was just moments ago, he had no way of telling how many days, or weeks had gone by since his descent off the cliffs. Laying against the comfort of the quilts and pillows he continued to eat as this young man, named Nickolas, continued to feed him and talk in almost hushed whispers. He tells him about the fog that’s rolling in, how it was so dense that he’s barely able to see the opposite side of the shores and see Brightvale. And about the soup, apparently it was his mother’s recipe but he and his friend had added a few more ‘much needed’ ingredients to it since her tongue has a pallet of a dogglefox with the flu. When he was done with his soup Nickolas had brought a small cup of water to have him drink, it tasted strange—though—a good strange, like there was a delicate taste infused with it, and spice. Nickolas then gets up from his chair, adds another log to the fire and grabs the tray from the side table and tells him to relax, he had a horrible trip and needed to rest up for the road of recovery. Rather he didn’t notice or ignored the look of disgust on his face was beyond his knowledge. Road of recovery wasn’t an option. He was going to succeed the moment he has an opportunity to leave.

 

* * *

 

 

Three days passed, and the longer the days became the more puzzled he was becoming. The very first time that he had dinner he found a way to sit up, well, not without pain in his side apparently. But sit up nonetheless. Nickolas had brought him some more soup, a cheese and potato kind and this time he had brought some pound cake slices, cream and fruit. The strange thing was that he had brought two servings—one for him and one for himself. Nickolas wanted to see if he was able to hold a spoon on his own, thankfully he could but he refused to have him walk around or leave the room until he gained more of his strength. During dinner Nickolas talked to him more about a book that he had uncovered from his friend’s belongings about strange monsters from the ocean just to the north, he didn’t believe it to be real.

 

Breakfast the next two days were just as comforting, the first day they had shared some crepes with fruit and Brightvalian coffee, Nickolas drank his black but brought some sugar and crème in case he used it, he was also delighted to find out that he too drank it black. They then shared lunch, and dinner, and breakfast the third day was oatmeal—it wasn’t the oatmeal he’s ever had however, it was sweeter but delicious nonetheless, there was more coffee, and toast with butter and slices of fruit again. Nickolas was talking to him about something with wine and his thoughts of how distilleries all use the same recipe but borrow different preparations from other lands to make it taste different when a servant knocked on their door. He had already known her name already, she usually came with Nickolas in the morning to help him get dressed and ‘ready for the day’ though there wasn’t really anything for him to get ready for. Her name was—Margaret? Martisia? Er….

 

“Sir, Master Callahan is back.”

 

“Oh how wonderful! Bless you Margrethe!” Nickolas immediately stands up from his seat and he’s practically out the door by the time he stops himself to turn around and grin sheepishly, “My friend, please finish without me, I’ll be back in just a moment.” Both Nickolas and Margrethe are out the door and again he’s left to himself, good, this was his opportunity. He had to catch himself on the wall when he stood up, sure Nickolas and his servant were kind enough to help him stand but this was the first time that he had gotten up by himself in days, his legs were still very sore and when he walked he could feel the scars underneath his trousers sting with movement. He was fine as long as he kept close to the wall, as long as he had something to hold himself on. Too bad there wasn’t a cane anywhere near, but the wall proved to do a good enough job, he opens the door of his bedroom and greeted with a foreign scene, a long hallway and there—the staircase was just right there, a railing as well, possibly to view the first floor. Step after wobbly step he gripped a potted plant, another bookshelf, the wall, and then the railing. He’s thinking that this will be it, he will drop to his demise right where he grips the railing but his eyes go from looking at the floor to seeing the familiar tall blonde just below on the first floor.

 

 

Crying.

 

 

His breathing stops, his fingers grip tight to the wooden rail and he’s left with what he thinks is something he shouldn’t be seeing. This young gelert that was taking such good care of him, sharing his food, clothes, his home and sharing stories of his life and tales that he’s read is just standing before him. Crying. He’s also holding something in his hands and for the first time the grip he holds onto the hidden object it seems as though he’s possessive over it. His legs start moving, slower this time, he’s using the rail to hold himself up and the moment he gets to the top of the staircase another dark thought is urging him but something strange happens. He’s ignoring it. Licking his lips as he carefully plans the next couple of steps ahead he puts one foot down on the step below and he attempts to reach the next one with his other foot, he grips tight to the rail as he slips. Ok, so he’ll have to take this one step at a time, good—that’s good, he can try to think of something to say in the meantime.

 

This was too awkward of a time to tell the man ‘thank you’, but it was a thought, an ‘are you ok?’ sounds a little too strange as well. He needed something to say to him, he actually wants to help him—for all that he’s done. Somehow with each step down the staircase he’s starting to feel a little stronger, or maybe the stinging in his legs are starting to feel numb and so it’s just easier to walk on them, whichever it was it was working. Gripping the hidden injury on his side he finally stands a little straighter and lets go of the railing when nothing else is there to hold him up any further. A slow step forward, and then another, yeah—just like that, one foot in front of the other. Simple. He was standing right behind him, an arm’s length away and the crying hasn’t died down in the least, he takes a breath to prepare himself, if this was a dream or not it would come to this. He reaches with his bandaged hand…

 

“Oh!” Nickolas turns around with a painful flinch just as his shoulder was getting grabbed, the grey gelert standing before him didn’t let his grasp go and for the first time since they had known each other in the three day period his golden eyes are sparkling with confidence. Nickolas briskly wipes the tears away from his face but it’s not working, the tears are still flowing. “I—what are you doing down here?” the puzzled expression on his face turns into horror as his guest’s legs began to shake. “Y-You’re supposed to be resting! We need to get you back--”

 

“Did...he do this to you?” the words felt strange as they came from his mouth, it was as if he hasn’t spoken in years, the sentence dripped with caution as he asked. Nickolas blinks, stunned that his friend can talk.

 

“Wh-What?”

 

“Your friend…did he hurt you?” he wasn’t proud of what he’s done, nowhere near it, but it was a skill he now possessed within him. To kill. To harm. And after what this wonderful man has done for him in the last three days, filled with nothing but determination in all hopes of nursing him back to health he was willing to find whoever it was that hurt Nickolas and stop him from ever getting hurt by this man again. Something flashed behind Nickolas’ eyes at that moment and from surprise the young cleric looks away, almost shyly, and he shakes his head shamefully—sniffling as he did so like a child recovering from a nightmare.

 

“No, no he didn’t. He didn’t hurt me.”

 

“Good.” a stiff silence moved in between them, he tried his best to shift his weight to his other hip but he stumbles from the pain that was hiding there. Nickolas was quick to catch him but they both fell to the floor, Nickolas looking over to make sure his injuries didn’t worsen from the fall as he groans. He’s trying his hardest to push against the floor and against Nickolas so that he can stand on his own again, feel confident and powerful but his strength was wearing thin.

 

“Please hold still! Your injuries--” Nickolas drops the item from his hand just then so that he can hold the grey gelert by the arms and keep him still, and finally he stops struggling, he’s sitting on the floor with Nickolas and leaning against him, wheezing hungry breaths of air and hissing against the obnoxious throbbing in his side and legs, the stinging returns and he’s regretting in letting go of the stairs to get close. But, that was the only regret he had on his mind. They sit there together, Nickolas sniffles a few more times but his crying has stopped, he guesses that he’s trying to strike up a conversation—or make an excuse to avoid telling him the real reason why he was cry. “Um...it looks as though you’re getting better.”

 

“I didn’t plan on it.” he takes a much needed breath of air through his nose and out of his mouth, finally, his breathing began to calm down and he could talk—a little better. “I didn’t really plan…on living honestly.”

 

“I was afraid of that.” Nickolas murmurs under his breath, he sits up a little more so that he can let his house guest lean more on him, supporting both of them as they continued to sit on the floor just at the feet of the staircase. Nickolas nibbles on his lower lip before continuing, “When my friend found you on the shore, he said that he looked into your eyes and saw what you wanted. What you were trying to achieve—he brought you here because he was certain that you were going to die there in the sand, and he wanted you to be comfortable in case you passed on.”

 

“How chivalrous.” he hisses back and for the first time in a long while he laughs softly, to think that this friend of his was kind enough to bring a complete stranger into his home and let a man peacefully die there was…rather strange, and somehow a little noble. “But somehow…I’m still alive.”

 

“That was my doing, I’m sorry,” the blonde reaches for his hand that rested against the rug and brought it up to their laps so that he can hold them comfortably there, the gesture was strange on his behalf but he guessed it was because Nickolas was just attuned to holding his friend’s hands. Maybe they were similar….no that can’t be it…. “I was determined to save your life, I saw a good heart in you, a very noble heart. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I had came across such a life and let you die outside alone, you deserve better things.”

 

“I deserve death.”

 

“Then why didn’t you take your own life when you were upstairs?” His eyes got wide when Nickolas asked the question and he was stunned into silence, why? Because he couldn’t—no, dammit this cleric was just playing with his mind, and his emotions— “I am not playing with such things, my friend. You came down here because of your good heart.” Nickolas smiles against the grey gelert’s accusing glances and turns around to reach over for the small item he dropped before, a small gelert plush that was still fairly new and definitely homemade. The blonde hesitated just a moment to look at the plush and then rests that into his own hands, the plush still warm from Nickolas’ tight grasp. He glances down at the plush and then back up to the cleric who is silent, his eyes staring down but not staring at anything in particular, “I thought that…if I could save you I could be redeemed.”

 

“Redeemed?” he asked cautiously feeling Nickolas’ grip tighten on their hands and the plush in between them, but they didn’t hurt at all, not compared to everything else in his body.

 

“I lost someone very dear to me…and now my friend is out there, days and weeks at a time searching for his son…he’s gone, my friend. My little boy was taken from us.”

 

“I…am sorry.” he musters finally, he wasn’t alone. The moment that he had realized that this man was feeling something similar to him was…reassuring. “I….lost her…I lost them, a year ago.” Nickolas looks down and he finally sees life in the gery gelert’s eyes, now watering up and his strong posture in his shoulders slumping again as when he had first got him to sit up. “I am nothing without them…they were my world.” he stops when Nickolas wraps his arms around him and holds him close, it had felt so long since he was left in someone’s embrace and it was so….strange. Everything he had bottled up in him came out in a silent cry and he shut his eyes tight with no success in keeping the tears in, the cleric sitting on the floor with him cried alongside him and to his surprise he rose his bandaged arms up and pulls this man closer.

 

He didn’t feel alone anymore.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The water had climbed up along the sandy shores only to be pulled back into the shallow depths it had came from. A few stones were pushed up along and he reached down to grab a few in one hand, he had been practicing, for now it was stones skipping across the top of the water but he had planned on getting throwing knives. Maybe. If he was to keep his muscles strong then he was going to have to find a new hobby other than walking around the mansion. This morning he decided that it was going to be a self searching day, the sun was already coming up from the horizon but it did nothing to the fog that was still cloaking the kingdom. It was tranquil almost, the cold breeze blowing against him and making the long fluid sleeves he wore caress his arms, no longer bandaged but still heavily scarred.

 

With a quick flick of his wrist the rock he tossed skipped the top of the water, one—two—three—four—four times. Better. He winds his arm up a little higher, gives a practice toss and then unwinds, the rock skips—hits a large boulder that happens to be hiding among the untamed waves that crash against it and then disappears. Well that’s not even fair….

 

“ _A chuid den tsaol!_ You’re up early again!” He turns around to see Nickolas walking across the sand from the dirt road that led to the front of the mansion and he can’t help but smile, ‘my share of life’ wasn’t a common nickname—at least not from where he’s from, but Nickolas has explained that it was for someone he believed to have been bond by fate to meet. From over a year of his accident he was ready to forget everything there was to know about fate, destiny or anything else related to all of that, but now his thoughts might have changed because of this cleric. Of course, he won’t let Nickolas know that. The blonde held a basket on his arm and he held tight to the drape that covered his shoulders when he got close, a smile still present on his face. “I just got back from the market and I was about to start cooking breakfast, was there anything you wanted with your meal?”

 

“Nothing in particular.” he thought aloud grabbing another pebble from the sand, he waved his arm to the side a few times to warm up his throw but stopped in the middle of it, the pebble still in his hand. “Not unless you can spare a glass of wine or two to the both of us.”

 

“I see,” Nickolas watches closely as his friend flicks the stone and it bounces yet again towards the hidden boulder, though this time he’s successful in clipping the tip of it and making the pebble bounce a few more times behind it before it vanishes in the foamy depths. “what might be the celebration, I wonder?”

 

“If you must know, I have a name now.”

 

“Oh? Well what is it then?” He shrugs, modestly for the most part and instead of looking for more stones to throw he decides to just watch as the waves that he had hoped to claim his life two months ago threw themselves at the high rocky cliff-side. At first he would find the sight of it mocking, as if it stood there and reminded him of the failed attempt he had made, but now, as he looks at it’s sharp edges and crumbled structure he knew that he didn’t fail—he succeeded in resisting it’s temptation to end himself.

 

 

“My name is Jenner.” he claims proudly turning around to face the cleric, “Jenner Rathbone.”

 

“Jenner.” his friend makes a face at first but as he says it again in a whisper he ends up smiling, “You know, I think it might grow on me, but until then you are still my _a chuid den tsaol_. _”_

 

“You’re making me sound like a child, Nick.” Jenner laughs taking a few steps over so that he can grab the woven basket from his friend’s arm and hold it to his side, Nickoals walks along besides him gently grabbing his sleeve by his elbow as they continued towards the mansion. “And I think it is a lovely name. I came across it when I was reading that one novel you had in your library, the name belonged to a man who is quite intelligent and deceitful, I do think that if he was a real person we would’ve gotten along just fine.”

 

“Honestly my friend, you always had such a peculiar taste of humor.” the cleric sighs with the dramatic roll of his eyes and he’s forced to laugh once the grey gelert fakes a gasp and places a hand on his chest, Nickolas can’t help but smile even more. “Why Jenner, it hurts only because it’s true of course.” his friend laughs along with him as he shakes his head shamefully, though, he doesn’t comment anything further, giving him a chance. “You are getting better though, every day in fact.” hearing his friend’s sentence falter at the end was what made Jenner finally look up and it was then he saw it, worry. “I...uh...I guess that means you would be leaving then.”

 

“I guess, I still have to see if my home is still standing after all.” the grey gelert says sighing to himself and he crosses his arms over his chest and tsks under his breath, pretending to be contemplating his thoughts. “I will have to see just where I can find a tub as big as yours,” he pretends to look away over to the fog that continued to roll in so he can escape Nickolas’ confused glance. “I mean, I can’t have you not being able to enjoy a nice long soak after a hard’s day work at the Cathedral—and just comparing myself to the tub I use in your guest bedroom I don’t think your legs alone would fit. I would have to fix that immediately...”

 

“What in the hells are you talking about? Tub? Fitting?” Nickolas’ stern tone didn’t seem so threatening with the embarrassed flush that was coming to his cheeks just then, or the horrified expression that was coming about on his face. What did his friend mean by him fitting in a tub? Or getting a new one? Jenner snapped his fingers in the air and laughs,

 

“Oh my apologies, I thought I have told you already. I had made plans to make a few much needed changes to my home when I get back, as a thank you for keeping me as a guest in your home I would be honored if you were to come and stay with me for a little while.” Jenner shrugs his shoulders and turns his attention away again as he waves a hand in the air, “I won’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, Nickolas. Not for what you have done for me, I plan on making it up to you for the trouble I had caused these last couple of months.” he looked up when he heard the cleric besides him laugh, his face was continuing to redden with the flattered chuckles that escaped from him, even when he decided to cover his mouth. Nickolas did feel honored, he has done many things for others in the past and many of them had tried to repay him in their own ways but this time—this time felt different, this wasn’t some stranger anymore, this was his lifelong friend.

 

“Actually, I would love to.”


End file.
